A Man of Many Hats
by MuggleRavenclaw
Summary: Many people like to point out the similarities between Albus Dumbledore and other wise old mentors in fiction. This simply takes that idea a step further.


A Man of Many Hats

A/N: This is simply a short little investigation into the character of Albus Dumbledore, and the archetype that he seems to fit into so neatly. I do not consider this a crossover, though it is riddled with references to other books, legends, movies, and television shows. Can you spot them all? Most are obvious, but a couple are a bit more obscure. As always, I appreciate any and all reviews: praise and criticism both help me become a better writer.

Disclaimer: I do not own or make any profit from Harry Potter or any of the various stories mentioned here. You can sue me if you want to, I suppose, but it won't do you any good. I'm broke.

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The Being that currently called itself Albus Dumbledore sat back in his office with a sigh. He knew that his time in this form was drawing to an end; that much was obvious by a mere glance at his withered hand. All he could do was hope that he had put young Harry in a position to finish his struggle without further assistance. The Being had rarely failed before, but it had happened occasionally. After all, when one is constantly traveling through space, time, and even multiple universes to assist the forces of good in their endless struggle, mistakes are bound to happen.

Fortunately, the Being's mistakes were few and far between. He avoided them by staying out of the direct spotlight, preferring to work in a supporting role for whoever the hero was in any given circumstance. Usually he went with the guise of an old and wise mentor, like that time long ago in an earlier age, guiding those funny little Hobbits all over the countryside. That had been a very enjoyable few centuries, before he was called away to build a school for gifted youngsters in New York. The wheelchair had been a slight inconvenience, but the telepathy certainly made up for it.

Albus leaned forward to collect a lemon drop from the bowl on his desk. As the tart sweetness filled his mouth, he allowed himself to ponder over the mistakes he had made regarding one Harry Potter. Certainly it had been a mistake to leave him with the Dursleys. While the blood wards were incredibly effective, they were simply not worth the constant abuse that he now knew Harry had suffered. Perhaps if he had done more investigating, he would have been able to avoid putting Harry through that pain, but Albus had only realized the true extent of Harry's sufferings after Harry's second year. By that point, Albus had simply rationalized that Harry could keep the Dursleys at bay by threatening them with magic, and forced the boy to return each summer. Looking back now, Albus realized that this, perhaps more than anything else, had deeply damaged Harry Potter.

His other mistakes were smaller, but numerous. He should never have brought the Philosopher's Stone into Hogwarts. He should have figured out what Slytherin's monster was – after all, a mere second year student had managed it. Albus mentally corrected himself; Hermione Granger was not a _mere_ anything. In Harry's fourth year, Albus had failed to realize that one of his oldest friends was actually being impersonated by a Death Eater. The most recent year, though, really made the Being cringe. He had isolated and downright ignored Harry for most of the boy's fifth year, only to spring the worst kind of news on him at the worst possible moment. Certainly it was time to make amends in his last year as Albus Dumbledore. He would have to prepare Harry to find and destroy Tom's horcruxes. Only then would the Being allow himself to move on to his next incarnation.

With that settled in his mind, the Being took a moment to reminisce on the good times he spent as Albus Dumbledore. This form certainly had a more flamboyant dress sense than most, and a real flair for the dramatic. It was certainly enjoyable to be so powerful with magic in this form; while some incarnations were fighters, most were relegated to simply offering advice and guidance. Albus had been a positive influence on the wizarding world for well over a century, even managing to defeat his own dark lord decades before he got to his true purpose for this incarnation: Harry Potter.

While the Being was not omniscient, he knew at least two things about each of his incarnations before he began them: where he needed to be, and who he needed to keep an eye on. This information was enough to give him a solid head start on his work, and allow him to have the most effective positive impact possible. For example, when he was a slightly mad baboon in the African savannah, he knew to watch for the young lion accompanied by a meerkat and a warthog (that had been a very bizarre lifetime). When the Being set himself up to train the last of the Dragon Riders of Alagaesia, he simply planted himself in the boy's village as an old storyteller and waited for events to unfold. No matter where he went, the Being was able to place himself in the right place at the right time to help the hero in his struggle. When he worked for MI6, the Being was firmly ensconced as quartermaster by the time 007 came into his own, and was able to offer sage advice as well as ridiculously cool gadgets.

Possibly one of his favorite parts of all his traveling, though, was hearing about himself in legends and old stories. As one of his companions once said to another, "I hate good wizards in fairy tales; they always turn out to be him." It was a constant source of amusement to hear witches and wizards use one of his old names as a swear word. He had to carefully control his reaction every time he heard a student exclaim "Dear Merlin!"

The Being's life was not all amusement, however. He once spent several very depressing millennia as a centaur, training all the great Greek heroes. Unfortunately, the Greeks were very fond of tragedy, and nearly all of his protégés died a horribly painful death. Not until the later years of that life, when the gods had moved to the Empire State Building, did some of his heroes find success.

Weary of looking to the past, Albus reached for another lemon drop to replace the one that had long since melted on his tongue. As he enjoyed the first burst of flavor, the being turned his thoughts toward his next life. There was a young boy that would soon be losing his parents to a robber-turned-murderer in Gotham City, and he would need someone to raise him and gently nudge his future towards the light (or dark, in this particular case). Perhaps the small family needed a butler? He would have to wait and see.

As Albus slowly pushed himself up from his chair, he decided that it was time to inform Severus of the last duty he must perform in the coming months. After all, it would not do for Harry to see him slowly succumbing to dark magic wrought by Voldemort. Albus moved toward his wonderful moving staircase, allowing one last memory to slip in before he focused his mind on the present. After all, it would not do to forget that his journey had all started a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…


End file.
